Oy, where I was yesterday - I couldn’t find for the life of me! I only recall there was paper on the wall, Remember Claudia was there and her girl friend, too, And in the kitchen I was kissing them all. When I rose in the morning they let me know That I cussed at the hostess, tried to lean upon all, I mooned, I streaked, I shouted songs, And I said, "My dad’s a General!" Then I tore my shirt open and beat my chest, I claimed that everyone betrayed me, And, so they say, I wouldn’t let the guests alone, Tortured them all with my prison songs, you see. I finally stopped drinking, ’cause I got a bit tired - Started to smash priceless crystal on the floor, Poured wine on the wall, took the coffee service, Swung opened the window and threw the service below. I wouldn’t listen to one word anyone could say, But they found how to cope with me. All as one They ganged up on me, tied up my hands, And in general they all joined the fun. Someone spat in my face, another poured vodka in my mouth, And some kind of dancer kicked up his legs on my belly. And a young widow, she’s still faithful to her husband, Why, we all live once - she took pity on me, really. In the kitchen I went pale from my poor battered face, I made it seem that really I’d given up, say. "Untie me!" I cried. "It’s all over now!" They untied me, but they hid the forks away. And then it really began - words couldn’t tell - Where I got such strength I’ll never know! I finally weirded out, like a wounded beast, Beat out windows, the door, gave the balcony a blow. Oy, where I was yesterday, I couldn’t find with flashlight in broad day! I only recall there was paper on the walls, yes, And my face remains like real battlefield - Well, where could I go with a face like this? If all this is true - why, if even a third is - All that’s left is to lay down and die! One good thing is the widow could live through it all. She took pity on me, took me home to revive.
© Bill Everett. Translation, 2002